


champagne problems

by reciprocityfic



Category: Little Women (2019), Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29034240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reciprocityfic/pseuds/reciprocityfic
Summary: she feels someone place their hand on her shoulder, and she knows it’s him, even without looking.  for a moment, she considers fleeing instead of turning around, but she abolishes the thought.  it would be nonsensical; she has nothing to be ashamed of.  nothing to regret.  she made her choice, and he made his.  and now he is happy, and she is happy for him.she turns, and there he is, towering over her, as he always had.  she looks him over from head to toe - he’s still in the suit he wore for the wedding, although his hair is tousled and out of place and his eyes are shining instead of tired because he’s had slightly too much to drink - and he’s so beautiful.***after his wedding, laurie asks amy to dance with him.
Relationships: Amy March/Fred Vaughn, Theodore Laurence/Amy March, Theodore Laurence/Josephine March
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75





	champagne problems

**Author's Note:**

> hi again! thank you so much for the overwhelming response to my last story; it's my most kudo'd fic ever on this site, and you all left such nice comments that it made me want to cry a little? and definitely inspired me to write more about these two kids. this is not the angsty piece i was speaking about in my last author's note, but alas, this one is very angsty as well. consider yourself warned. if it makes you feel better, i have an extremely fluffy amy x laurie fic about halfway done and plan to post it soonish!
> 
> hope you like this, even if it makes you sad. i felt sad when i was writing it, too. :(
> 
> (there's a giant author's note at the end of this - be warned - but it has some fun tidbits in it about this and also i ask a question that i'd love some answers to.)

He doesn’t dance with her during the wedding. 

In fact, she thinks he danced with every girl - young and old - in attendance at the celebration, except her. After all, it’s  _ his  _ wedding; everyone wants a dance with the happy groom.

(That’s what he is - happy. Happy, married, and not hers.)

It’s better that way, she knows. Just as it’s better that they haven’t spoken alone since Europe, not really. Still, it hurts her. It reminds her of Meg’s wedding, when she was young and wide-eyed and full of dreams that hadn’t been crushed yet. Hopelessly in love with him, of course, but resigned to the fact that he was Jo’s. It had almost been easier, then. To want him from afar, to love him when there was no possibility of him loving her back. It hurt less, somehow.

That day, he hadn’t danced with her either. She watched as he danced with Marmee, with her sisters - Jo, of course, but also with Beth and Meg. She remembers her heart leaping every time he came near her, hoping that he was finally going to pull her out into the open space in their yard and sway her back and forth, but he was always on his way to someone or something else. It broke her heart, but she hid it well. She was used to him always looking away when all she wanted was for him to look at her.

He hadn’t danced with her. It was an regrettable oversight on his part, he said when she’d teased him about it once in Paris. He’d begged her forgiveness, trying to get on his knees in front of her, and she’d shoved him away playfully with a roll of her eyes. He’d gotten up, and stared at her for a moment too long in a way she didn’t understand. Didn’t let herself understand. Or perhaps she’d just forgotten the meaning of it when it came to him.

(He’d make her understand it, only one week later. And she’d push him away, throw out another one of her childhood wishes.)

He hadn’t danced with her, and he hadn’t danced with her now, either. And she tries to push away the pain of it, but it lingers in the pit of her heart. It lingers, piles up alongside every other hurt that has inched its way inside her since she’d left him in that garden in France.

She wanders around the grand hall they’d secured for the event. It’s very late, or maybe extremely early - she doesn’t know. The other guests left hours ago, and the servants are cleaning up around her. She walks towards one of the long tables, the remnants of delicious sweets and hors d'oeuvres left on shining, silver platters littering the white tablecloth. She’s about to reach for a stray chocolate when she feels someone place their hand on her shoulder.

She knows it’s him, even without looking. For a moment, she considers fleeing instead of turning around, but she abolishes the thought. It would be nonsensical; she has nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to regret. She made her choice, and he made his. And now he is happy, and she is happy for him.

She turns, and there he is, towering over her, as he always had.

She looks him over from head to toe - he’s still in the suit he wore for the wedding, although his hair is tousled and out of place and his eyes are shining instead of tired because he’s had  _ slightly _ too much to drink - and he’s so  _ beautiful _ . It makes tears well in her eyes, but she uses every ounce of her strength to blink them back and cast him a disapproving look.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, trying her best to seem disinterested. “Shouldn’t you be with Jo?”

He looks down at her, raises an eyebrow.

“Would you rather I go be with Jo?”

“Yes,” she says sternly. “She’s your  _ wife _ .”

“And you say that like it’s such a bad thing.”

“No I don’t!” she exclaims too loudly - too defensively - and she cringes as the sound echoes throughout the empty hall. A few servants turn to look at her, but then they’re on their way.

“Laurie,” she says, nearly whispering her words now. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but leave. Go to Jo and just...leave.”

She turns away again, and goes to leave the room - perhaps she’ll finally go to her room and retire for the evening. But again, he grasps her shoulder.

“ _ What _ , Laurie?” she nearly groans, exasperated. She’s avoided him quite adeptly since they’d returned home, and she doesn’t know why he still isn’t getting the message. He’s  _ married  _ now, and she will be soon, and they can’t -  _ she _ can’t - be around him like this anymore. Not with the way her heart aches every time she so much as thinks of him. She  _ can’t _ , and she’s about to turn and tell him so, the audience of servants be damned, when he speaks.

“You don’t think I’d let another wedding pass without asking you to dance, do you?”

Her breath catches in her throat.

She turns around slowly, and suddenly, she can’t help herself. She’s sixteen again, and a smile spreads itself across her lips.

“You remembered,” she murmurs.

He scoffs playfully, reaching out and taking one of her hands in his, leading her to the center of the room. The servants still walk around them, but he’s the only person she can see.

“ _ Of course _ I remembered. How could I  _ forget _ after the way you scolded me in Paris over Meg’s wedding?”

“Oh, hush,” she tells him, elbowing him in the ribs as he walks beside her. “It wasn’t all that.”

“Hm, if I remember correctly, it  _ was  _ all that, indeed.”

And before she can protest, he turns towards her, bowing slightly and holding out his hand. Her words die in her throat.

“My lady,” he murmurs, quiet enough that only she can hear.

She inhales slowly, trying to steady herself, and then curtsies elegantly before reaching out and placing her hand in his.

“My lord,” she whispers.

But she doesn’t think he hears her. He’s staring at the back of her hand quite intently, and she’s about to ask him what’s the matter when he presses his lips to her knuckles.

The beat of her heart skips.

_ No _ , she wants to tell him.  _ No _ . The kiss lingers for too long and his mouth is too soft and gentle, and she wants to scream at him, wants to yank her hand from him and push him away. She  _ should  _ do that; she should leave him and retire to her room and forget any of this ever happened.

But her mouth is dry and her throat is tight, and it seems she’s lost her ability to move. Not even when he finally stands up straight does she regain her senses, and he all but lifts her into his arms, cradling her against his body.

They begin to sway, slowly, rather than dance. His arms are around her, and her face and hands rest on his chest. She closes her eyes. Her ear is right above his heart, and she can hear its beat - slightly faster than normal, but steady. She can feel how his ribs rise and fall as he takes deep, slow breaths.

“It’s better this way,” she murmurs, finally, after long minutes of silence, as she regains her bearings.

“Is it?” he asks, and she feels the words rumble in his chest.

“Yes,” she tells him, lets herself linger against him for a moment longer before she pulls back, putting some space between them, but remaining close enough that she can feel the heat of his body as he holds her.

“Yes,” she repeats, lifting her chin so she can look at him. But he’s staring over her head, eyes dark and stoic. “Laurie, you love her. You love her, as you’ve always loved her. And you’ll be happy with her. This is what everyone expected. And it’s what you always wanted. What you longed for.”

She can feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes, but she steadies herself and finds the strength to hold them back, clears her throat so her voice doesn’t shake.

“Laurie and Jo,” she says, telling him what she’s known since she was thirteen. “It’s always been Laurie and Jo. It always will be.”

“In Paris - “ he begins.

“Paris wasn’t real,” she interrupts abruptly. “It wasn’t.  _ This  _ is real, Laurie. This is home. Concord. This is what matters. This is the way it was meant.”

And she stops, looks down, because her voice cracks on the last word and she has to squeeze her eyes shut for a few moments to keep moisture from falling.

His hand reaches up and grabs her chin, and she can feel him tug on it, trying to get her to look at him. She takes one more breath, and then lifts her head.

He stares at her, his eyes searching her face, his expression soft and caring. She stares back, her eyes pleading him to accept this, to move on and forget.

“And what about you, Amy?” he asks.

She looks away abruptly, and hates the way she can feel a blush crawling over her skin.

“I’m marrying Fred. You know that. He’ll be back from London in a month and then it won’t be long after that.”

She can feel Laurie’s narrowed eyes on her, but she continues in spite of it.

“Fred is more than serviceable,” she tells him, and he scoffs.

“Is that the main quality a proper woman is supposed to look for in a husband?  _ Serviceable _ ? Oh, pardon me, I forgot one thing - he’s  _ rich _ . Rich and serviceable.”

The part of her that doesn’t want to burst into tears wants to hit him. Laurie is often mean when he’s angry, and she remembers the way he had mocked her at the New Year’s party in France - mocked  _ Fred _ \- and how she’d felt the exact same way. And she might fight him now, if she wasn’t so tired and  _ sad _ .

As it is, she just presses on.

“Yes, he’s rich. But he’s also kind, and responsible, and respected, and thoughtful, and he’ll make a fine husband. I’ll be fine, Laurie. I  _ like  _ Fred.”

She doesn’t love him yet. She tells herself she will in time.

“That makes one of us,” Laurie quips, and she can’t resist rolling her eyes.

“Fred is supposed to be your friend. I don’t know why you’ve taken to hating him so.”

“He’s marrying the woman I -”

“Stop!” she says, cutting him off before he can finish. Her voice is loud enough that a few servants look their way curiously again, and she winces, waiting a moment before talking again.

“You can’t talk like that,” she tells him for what seems like the millionth time, nearly begging him at this point. “You  _ can’t _ . You’re married - to my  _ sister _ \- and you can’t say those kinds of things. Not before, and most certainly not anymore.”

“I know,” he says quietly, surprising her. She looks up, but he’s staring down at his feet, his expression somber, almost wounded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He’s sincere, she can tell, and it softens her. She knows it’s hard for him. It’s hard for her, too. And he looks so sad and helpless that she can’t help but reach out to him, tucking a stray lock of dark, mussed hair behind his ear.

He turns his head slightly. His nose brushes against her wrist, and she feels the rush of air as he inhales her. She shivers, and she watches his eyes squeeze shut tightly before he opens them and gazes at her.

“Everything will be better this way,” he says, but it comes out sounding more like a question than a simple statement.

“Yes,” she nods, looking at him as his eyes search hers for reassurance. “Everything will be better, and everyone will be happier. It was meant this way.”

“It was meant this way,” he repeats, and even though she’d said the same words only a moment before, hearing  _ him  _ say it breaks her heart all over again.

Laurie and Jo. It’s  _ always  _ been Laurie and Jo.

“Go to Jo. Meg should’ve stopped fussing with her by now.” she tells him, trying to smile and ignore the way she’s falling apart inside. “She’s probably waiting for you.”

“Yes,” he says, looking away from her. “Yes, I will.”

“And I should be retiring to my room. It’s very late, and I want to wake up early and write Fred in the morning.”

“Yes,” he says again, nodding slightly.

They stop talking. Yet, neither makes an effort to part ways. His arms tighten around her. She leans into him, until she’s cradled against his chest once more, her ear over his heart.

And they breathe together as they sway back and forth.  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> a few notes about this:
> 
> \- it has ALWAYS bothered me that they don't show laurie dancing with amy at meg's wedding in the 2019 version of little women. it's one of the few criticisms i have of the movie. he dances with literally e v e r y o n e else, but not her. what the actual f.
> 
> -this is actually only a glimpse into a much, much bigger laurie x amy story (saga?) that exists only in my head. everything in the 2019 movie is canon up right up to when laurie asks amy to marry him in the garden, and she says no. in this version, she then says yes to fred vaughn, and when they come home after beth's death, laurie reads jo's letter and then asks her again, and jo says yes.
> 
> -speaking of glimpses, i'm never going to write that entire story down, but i do have more scenes like this one in my head that i might be interested in writing. would anyone be interested in reading them? the story, ultimately, ends up with laurie and amy finding their way back to each other, so it definitely gets v messy in the middle in regards to emotional infidelity etc. i know some people don't like that. let me know if you'd be interested in more scenes in the comments.
> 
> \- in an extended version of this scene, laurie starts humming since the two of them don't have any music and when amy asks what song it is, laurie tells her he wrote it in paris (when he was falling in love with her, of course.) i really wanted to put that in somewhere but it was getting a little too long and i couldn't find a good place to put it.
> 
> \- i listened to an extended version of bookstore from the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind soundtrack while i was writing. i watched that movie the other day (it's my all-time favorite) before i started writing this. blame the movie, not me, for the angst.
> 
> \- yes, the title is referencing the tswift song. it's my favorite off evermore, and it always screamed laurie x amy au angst! to me, even though it can be more obviously linked to laurie x jo. anyways tl;dr - everything belongs to laurie x amy, sorry i don't make the rules.
> 
> \- i make a very vague allusion to a moment from another one of my favorite otps in this fic. if you can figure out who they are, i'll be impressed.
> 
> if you're here, i applaud you for reading all of that. i love you all! leave a comment or kudos if you feel so inclined :)
> 
> xoxo,  
> rebekah


End file.
